


five times kissed.

by duelbraids



Series: blessedentia archives [10]
Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Gen, its abt fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5889532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duelbraids/pseuds/duelbraids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an answer to an ask meme, in which you described five times the two characters kissed, including platonic kisses such as on the nose, forehead, or cheeks. sent to me from a Kallian blog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times kissed.

> σηє. cнιℓ∂яєη ωιℓℓ вє cнιℓ∂яєη.

Little chubby feet pad down the hallways with Kallian, abandoning his even step in favor of keeping her from falling; if she tried to match his pace, and he knew she would, she’d end up sprawled on the palace marble, and what kind of big brother would he be if he didn’t keep her safe? “Wouldn’t you much rather be carried?” He asks, voice still all nasally and rather silly sounding, “It’s a long walk all the way to your lessons, Melia.”

But Melia doesn’t really answer, instead sticking her tongue out at him. It would be such a disrespect, if she were not the princess, if he did not care about her.

And besides, he knew. There is always a phase, he’d been told, when a child is _very, very_ little, where they’ll shun all affection. It’s gross, according to them, nasty emotions trying to ruin their fun. Even he’d gone through it, no matter how short it had been, perhaps only a few days before he realized he was being oh, so ridiculous ( of course, he was the same way now, as all princes before him had been, but this was for good reason. ) And it was no different, with Melia, making ugly faces whenever he tried to wrap her in a hug, or press a kiss to her forehead, and perhaps it was just a ritual of their people, to always shut out.

But that did not mean he was not bothered by it, for he should be the exception, even if this phase of believing affection horrid lasted so long, Kallian had done his best, alongside her mother to teach her that love wasn’t a weakness, but for how little good it had done, he wonders if he need have tried to help raise her at all ( of course, she’s still young, and even he is only eighty eight, they both still had so much growing to do. )

So, Kallian did not hesitate to pick his little sister up, even once she says no, because dear gods knew no one else would do it. No one else would grab her up off the floor when she is crying, or even when she was just fuming at him. Elder brother touches a kiss against her little button nose; Melia doesn’t seem too mad, once he thinks about it.

> тωσ. ℓσηєℓιηєѕѕ вяιηgѕ cσмραηу.

Never was the city so cavernous, so empty and echoing, the streets deserted; everyone would be outside for the Starfall festival; everyone save them. Even Sorean went, but there just seemed no point in letting Melia go, for her mask made sight near impossible, and she would get a better view from the palace than she ever would through the slits in the mask. But, they’re well aware of her shenanigans, how she knew how to slip out of the palace without anyone knowing, and it’d be even easier for her to _leave_ with no one watching. So, Kallian pulls one of the couches – a pretty, dark purple one, with patterned dots meant to be stars, soft cushions and a blanket thrown over top – over to the largest windows he can find that face Eryth Sea.

The prince takes a moment to sit down, a slight ‘oof’ leaving his mouth once he finally does; goodness, he was getting too tall for the low couches. Kallian looks around, and does not see Melia in the room, even behind the bookshelves or the desk; even the piano, no hiding sister in sight. Instead, his sister hovers around the doorway; he realizes, she’s halting for permission, waiting for him to tell her to enter. Calloused hand pats at the seat next to him, “Come on in, no one is going to bite you. I promise.”

And she does, though there is a terrifying hesitance that makes him wonder – does she fear him. Preposterous, even if she sits on the edge of the couch; Melia was poised like a bird ready to take flight, and of course she would be. Melia wanted to go just as much as Kallian did, perhaps more; she’d given so many different ideas to Sorean, different ways she could go with and without that dreadful mask. All of them ended with the same excuse, “I am your father, and I know best.”

A pause in between her sitting and her finally speaking; Melia sighs, and looks over to her brother, “You do not have to stay with me, Kallian. You would be much happier, spending time with everyone at the festival.” She knows she would be, and she knows how to hide and vanish in those large crowds – just go, she seems to be saying, so we both can have a fun night.

Large hands reach over and clasp around Melia’s shoulders, though, ( Melia flinches, ) and Kallian shakes his head, wings going back and forth with him, “That is implying I would _not_ be able to enjoy time with my sister. Are you no fun, Melia.” Doesn’t she realize, she’s the most important thing in the world to him.

In a fuss, she crosses her arms over her chest, “You know exactly what I am.” Bored, she means, very bored and very tired; she just wants to go outside.

But, a mischievous grin crosses Kallian’s face, and he is quick to drag them both to standing, “Then, let us turn that frown into a smile. What would make you happy, Melia?”

Her lips form a pout, huffing out; Kallian notices, she does not look him in the eyes, “You know what I want. I want to go outside and not have to wear that mask and be a normal child.” Normal, meaning full blooded – and they’d discussed this, over and over again; rather infuriating, but also rather sad.

Kallian shakes his head, and says, “You know we cannot allow you outsid–”

“Yes– I know. _It is too dangerous, Melia; oh, lady Melia, you’ll get hurt._ You think I haven’t heard this all before? I have.”

Another sigh from Kallian, and he presses his lips against her temples, “I promise you, we’re right. It’s for the best.” He thinks she responds, a mumbled ‘I don’t care.’

> тняєє. ωαя cнιℓ∂яєη.

Melia was awfully short for an Empress; she stood where their father once had, where someone who once could command the entire room to silence with a look had spent most of his time, listening and speaking and making laws that he’d never see the effect of, never see what good he actually did – none, for the most part. Crown regent though he may be, Kallian must still bow to his sister, and he prays, to something, to the Bionis, to the Mechonis, to _anything_ , let her be better. Tradition dictates he take her right hand, press a kiss against the back of her hand.

And instantly, she says, “Brother, this is not necessary. Rise up.”

> ƒσυя. ωнσ єχρєcтє∂ ιт тσ вє υѕ?

It is later that night, and all pretense and pretending is dropped; Kallian sits up, and Alvis barely acknowledges the shift in their shared bed; Melia collapses into his arms, and it is exactly like cradling a child. The bed creaks underneath the added weight, covers crinkling with movement. It does not take Kallian long to figure out that Melia is sobbing, tears matting down the silver curl stuck between her face and his shoulder.

Kallian is not a fool, though, and he knows exactly why she’s here; this had been their pattern, when she was younger and could not sleep for the demons that knocked at their door. Antiquated as they were with shared spaces in the middle of the night, Kallian knows, by instinct, that he _must_ act for her, that perhaps another time could be his moment of grief ( though grieving what, he does not know, for he never knew the father well enough, and the emperor was just another piece of the city, just as he is; it is the opportunity, he thinks, the what if and the ‘in another life’ scenarios where their father was more than a distant figure whose greatness they’d never reach. )

They are silent, save for the sobbing; no words pass between them, because there is nothing to say. There is nothing that can reverse it all, that can bring them back to a place called normal, so they just have to try and cope with what they do have. They have each other, and hadn’t that always been enough? Kallian rests his chin on top of Melia’s head; be strong, he tells himself, now is not the time to cry.

A tug on his night clothes’ sleeves tells Kallian to turn back, shifting towards the seer; there is a strange arrangement, between these three, and it is not long before Alvis begins to tell jokes in the same voice that he foretold the fall of nations, not necessarily monotone, but calm, steady. Melia can barely acknowledge her brother’s kiss on her cheek for her laughing, softly. Hadn’t their little family always been enough.

> ƒινє. ∂ση'т уσυ ∂αяє; ησт уσυ тσσ.

“You promised – you _promised._ ” It’s all she can say, her mantra. Because promises are never broken, not even in good faith.

But, Kallian shakes his head. “I could never keep that promise, but I could not tell you that.” If he had, he knows he would have never left the palace, much less go onto the battlefield, if the Empress had anything to say about it; and then, he wouldn’t have been able to save her, either back then and now here. Lorithia would live on, even though they were all powerful enough to end her seven times over – they were all soft hearted, they couldn’t live with a death on their head. Kallian wouldn’t have to live.

The ether begins to fade, and he speaks once more, “I want you to promise me this,” one final kiss, on her freckled, button nose; Kallian sees the tears, dampening and darkening her blue eyes, and he tries his best to wipe them away with a dissolving form, “Make things better, Melia.”

And he leaves, before she can even speak.


End file.
